


Kindness Smells Like Blood

by backspaceunlimited



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Assisted Suicide, Existential Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 14:44:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1554089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backspaceunlimited/pseuds/backspaceunlimited
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Position the target in the center, then switch on. Position the target in the center, then pull the switch.  Target in the center, then pull the switch. Center the target, then pull the switch.</p>
<p>Are you happy with your life?</p>
<p>Do you have any fears?</p>
<p>Are you afraid of dying?</p>
<p>Target center, pull switch. Switch. Switch. Switch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kindness Smells Like Blood

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this for a fanfiction class i took this semester, enjoy!

_Position the target in the center, then switch on. Position the target in the center, then pull the switch. Target in the center, then pull the switch. Center the target, then pull the switch._

“Try again.” Misato's voice crackles through Shinji's interface headset, causing small wave ripples in the LCL fluid around his head. “Next target!”

Shinji's hands grow slack around the weapons interface as he nudges the crosshairs into position on the glowing display screen. 

This combat simulation chamber is now obsolete. Angel attacks have reduced Tokyo-3 to organized piles of rubble. The holographic version of the city projected into the simulation chamber is too neat, with organized streets and unbroken skyscrapers, all glittering and metallic and not quite three-dimesional under an artificial sun. The only enemy simulation programed into the hologram is the Third Angel, a stain on an otherwise picturesque view of the false metropolis. 

_Target in the center. Place the crosshairs over the Angel's chest. Lock on._

The Angel simulation lumbers forward, hollow eye sockets peering at Unit 01 from under a pointed skeletal mask. Its long articulated limbs sway through skyscrapers that the algorithm fails to compartmentalize.

_Pull the switch._

The Angel screams when it is pierced through the center. It thrashes violently and dies, sending a shockwave rippling through the hologram. Another Angel spawns in its place.

“Next!”

_Target in the center, pull the switch._  
 _Target in the center, pull the switch._  
 _Target in the center, pull the switch._

“Ikari.” _Target in the center._ “Enough for today. Please disengage and report to the back block.” _Pull the switch. ___

_Target in the center, pull the switch._ Shinji can see through the city, the collapse of a simulation, warped static photon packages dissolving around the edges of his vision. His pupils train out of focus as the white holographic distortion threatens to overtake them. 

_Target center, pull switch._

“Shinji, enough. Disengage and report to the back block.”

_Target center, pull switch._ Shots fly erratically around the room. _Pull switch._

_Switch. Switch. Switch._

“Hyuga, release the umbilical cable for Unit 01 and lock weapons interface. Ibuki, end target simulation.”

The umbilical cable detaches from the back of Unit 01 with a hiss of steam, and a glowing countdown begins on the display. Five minutes until total power off. Shinji pulls the switch but nothing happens. 

His chin falls to his chest and he blinks slowly, eyes focusing and unfocusing in the darkness of the cockpit. Evangelion Unit 01 groans around him as his muscles relax, filling the air with the sounds of steel scraping against steel. The pilot and the robot fall slack synchronously. His hands, however, still clutch the weapons control tightly, white knuckles trembling in fear of losing his grip.

Tokyo-3 dissolves slowly. Random packets of data cut out of the simulation city before others, leaving gaping holes in the hologram. Shinji clamps his eyes shut, afraid of the Angel's hollow gaze still staring. 

“Ikari. Move Unit 01 to the back block.”

Shinji still grasped the weapons trigger, squeezing tightly at various intervals. Though connection of his nerves to the Evangelion, he can feel the warm metallic surface of the Pallet Gun, its sharp corners and the concave sway of the trigger, waiting for the right touch to make it come undone, waiting for a sharp crack and the sudden spewing of blood and a muted whisper: “Thank you Shinji.”

“Engage manual evacuation of pilot Shinji Ikari. Mark test as failure” Misato's exasperation is tangible through Shinji's headset. 

Shinji tries to breathe but the LCL in his lungs has gotten so heavy, so dense. He writhes in the pilot's seat, gasping and sobbing without differentiation.

“Shinji, brace yourself for rocket ejection. Fasten your safety belt. We need your body intact.”

Shinji can't move, can't speak, cannot even detect when the lights fade out above him and the rockets engage below, cannot shift to brace his form in the pilots chair as the entry plug is launched from the back of Unit 01, as it crashes into the ceiling, as he falls, weightless for a few seconds of sublimity, before crashing to the ground with a shuddering impact.

Silence and steam. Misato's team waits for it to clear before rushing into the simulation chamber.

“Move aside. Now.” Misato's voice has left Shinji's headset, and now comes distorted through layers of steel.

The long, pill-shaped entry plug is dented where the hatch attaches to the frame. Misato grips the wheel that locks the hatch in place, and forces all of her weight onto it. The hatch screeches and gives way, forced open by the weight of LCL fluid as it rushes out onto the floor. Shinji coughs as the liquid in his lungs is replaced with air. 

“Shinji. Are you alright?” Misato peers into the darkness of the cockpit. Shinji's body heaves in the seat.

She leans further through the hatch and grabs his curled shoulders roughly. “Shinji. Look at me.”

He clenches his eyelids closed tightly, hoping for them to somehow fuse together, become just a smooth patch of skin bulging over gelatinous orbs that rapidly flash back and forth. Misato's grip tightens.

“Shinji. Get up. Now.” She pulls hard, heaving him out of the chair. His body limply falls out onto the floor, splashing stomach-first into the pooling red LCL on the floor.

“Move.” Misato grabs one of his limp wrists and yanks upwards, hoping his feet will catch and he will stand and open his eyes. He falls.

She crouches, takes a deep breath, and tries to soften her tone. Her hand cups Shinji's cheek. “Please, just look at me.” 

A whimper escapes from his throat. Then silence, only the sound of LCL dripping softly from the open hatch.

“Call a stretcher. Take him to medical.”

 

************

 

_A familiar ceiling._

“Attention Bay Three. All medical personnel report to emergency.”

The sound through the intercom is warped by echoes as it bounces around the sterility of the medical ward. Everything shines, from the polished wax floor to the whitewash on the walls, and Shinji cringes at the fluorescence when he opens his eyes.

“I repeat, Bay Three medical personnel report to emergency.”

_All too familiar._

Shinji finds that he can move his limbs again, that the heaviness is gone. He props himself up with his elbow, and notes that there are no IVs snaking their way into his arm. In fact, there's nothing in the room at all except his bed. No monitors, no nurses, no Misato. He glances at the open doorway to his room at the gaggle of doctors that hurry by on the way to the emergency ward. 

The blankets are tangled around his torso, likely from a fitful sleep. He unwinds himself and slips out of bed, shivering as his bare feet touch the cold tile. 

A sharp ache in his neck and shoulders screams that he should lay down again. He glances once more at the bed, but the white sheets tucked into the mattress look like a tidy cotton tomb. He steps out into the hallway. 

The corridor is also empty. Sun streams through large windows rhythmically, square of light following square of light, and the pattern is soothing to his sense of order.

_Where do I go from here?_

“Ikari.” 

Shinji jumps, almost colliding with the wall. The voice came from behind him, although he is sure no one was there before, and he heard no footsteps approaching.

“Ayanami?” He turns, voice cracking, swallows the dryness in his mouth. “Where did you come from?”

“Here.” Her voice is flat as usual. She surveys his throat as he swallows heavily again, and then meets his gaze.

“Oh.” Her eyes seem trained directly on his pupils, not so much looking into his eyes as looking at them. Shinji feels a flush creep up the side of his neck.

“You failed the combat simulation.” 

“I – I guess so.” He looks down. Memories of his ejection from Unit 01 and subsequent flight to the medical center are hazy.

“Ikari.” Rei spits the words sharply, like a curse. Shinji snaps his head back up to meet her gaze. “Are you afraid of failure?”

“No.” His pulse thuds in his throat. “I don't care.”

“What are you afraid of?” 

“I – don't know.”`

“Are you afraid of death?” Rei's voice sharply accents the last syllable.

“I – I am – Am I?” His voice cracks and sputters, the sound barely making it across his lips.

“Are you afraid of being alone?”

The words hang in the air with finality. Rei Ayanami's eyes are the color of blood. 

Shinji draws a ragged breath. “I killed him. He asked me to. And I killed him.” 

“You did what you were told.”

“I crushed him in my hand. He was kind to me. He was a stranger and he was nice to me.” Shinji can feel his throat swelling, his cheeks growing hot, a sharp pain in his chest spreading through his guts.

“We are all strangers, Ikari.” Her voice is barely louder than a whisper, but the hallway carries her sound like a scream. “And we are all alone.”

_Is this kindness?_

“Ayanami? What about you? Are you afraid of dying?”

Rei's eyes widen in shock for a split second at the question before returning to steel neutrality. “No.” The word lingers, as if she wanted to say something else. “Goodbye Ikari.” She turns suddenly and walks away.

He reacts involuntarily, staggering a step forward. “Wait, Ayanami!” _Don't leave me alone._ “Why did you come today?”

“I did what I was told.”

 

************

 

“Shinji? Will you eat something?

Misato cracks the door to Shinji's room and peers inside. A sliver of light falls onto his back, showing that he has changed from the hospital gown into real clothes. She can see the outline of his face half-buried into his pillow, the and cord from his earbuds outlining his jaw.

“Are you awake?” No response.

“Shinji, you have to get up sometime.”

_Freude, schöner Götterfunken, Tochter aus Elysium!_

His silence is deafening. A flash of anger burns in Misato's throat. “You can't run away forever Shinji. You have to make a choice.”

_Wir betreten feuertrunken, Himmlische, dein Heiligtum!_

Shinji hits the back button on his SDAT music player. “Track 25” begins again. He nuzzles the headphones further into his ear.

Misato rips his door open. Shinji lays on top of his sheets, legs and arms wrapped around one another, with his SDAT in one hand. 

_Just leave me alone._

“Ikari! Answer me!”

Shinji stares up into her face blankly. Misato's long black hair hangs in wild strands across her shoulders, and her chest is flushed with anger or alcohol. Probably both. She grabs his shirt collar and hauls him upright with extraordinary strength. Shinji gags as her fingers compress his Adam's apple, and tries to suck in air with a hiccuping reflex.

“A survivor must choose to survive! You made that choice already! So do it.” Her voice is raw with anger and she drops him. He rubs his throat, red from the pressure and lack of oxygen.

“Do what you want Shinji. But you have to do something.” She slams his door closed again when she exits the room. In the darkness, he slumps back into the fetal position.

“Track 25” begins again. Shinji stares at the texture of his blanket, noting the way the threads curve around one another, pale strands weaving in and out, touching, caressing, constructing an expanse far beyond any individual fiber.

_Don't leave me alone._

 

************

 

Misato wakes to the percolations of the coffee pot, and the bitter aroma tracing the tip of her nose. It takes a few moments of post-sleep grogginess to realize that Shinji must be out of bed.

“Shinji? Is that you?”

“Yes.”

Misato rises quickly and slides out of her room into the kitchen. Shinji is seated at the table with a mug of coffee, quietly chewing dry toast.

“Good morning.” She grabs a mug for herself from the sink and pours it to the brim with strong coffee.

“Misato, you need to go to the store. We're out of butter.” He doesn't look up from his toast to glare at Misato as he usually would, or chide her for not taking care of her adult duties. The statement hangs in the air, like a thoughtful suggestion worded as an accusation.

“Sure. Is there anything else that you want?” 

“No.”

Shinji sips his coffee, which Misato knows is disgustingly sweet after mixing up their cups one day. She cringes at the memory and opens the fridge, grabbing a beer and cracking the top in one hand. She sets the mug and the beer can on the table opposite from Shinji and collapses into the chair.

“Well, what are you going to do today Shinji? It is your day off.” She takes a sip of her beer and chases it down with hot coffee.

He hasn't looked at her yet. His moodiness isn't abnormal, but it is usually accompanied by misdirected anger. Yet his tone isn't sharp, and he looks more distant than annoyed. He did get out of bed by himself though, and Misato takes comfort in that fact. 

“Uh -” His hesitation is a breathy whisper, and Misato knits her brow.

“Shinji? Is everything alright?”

He pushes away from the table suddenly, sloshing his coffee onto his hands. “I need to see the Evangelion.” His eyes look wild when they meet Misato's. “Please.”

“Ok. Let me get dressed.” Misato takes one last longing glance at her beer before dumping the can and her mug of coffee into the sink. 

Shinji stands still in the kitchen, as if he began the process of moving but was somehow frozen in place. The tension in his narrow shoulders gives away his panic.

“Shinji? Misato flips on the faucet to chase the beer and coffee down the drain. “You can wait in the car if you want to. I'll be out soon.”

“Thank you, Misato.”

 

************

 

“This is Katsuragi. I'm bringing Shinji in. Provide stable clearance to Evangelion Unit 01 cage.”

The shocks on Misato's car had long since given out, and the body rattles where her shoddy duct tape repairs have come undone. Usually, her reckless driving would bother Shinji, but today he stares out the window, watching walls of concrete close in upon them as the car plummets down the tunnel to NERV headquarters. Yellow lights whir by, casting shadows along the interior of the car like an old home movie, spinning but not advancing. 

Misato flips her phone closed with a snap and pushes the accelerator harder, occasionally screeching around gradual curves in the tunnel. At the security checkpoint, Misato relinquishes her car to the guard, and the two are ushered into the main NERV complex.

_It's always so bright here._

The insistent clicks of Misato's shoes on the ground echo along the corridor. She grabs Shinji's wrist in an impersonal grip.

“Let's hurry. I'm not patient about being here on my day off.” She smiles at him, but he cringes as if she struck him. Their pace quickens.

After several minutes of elevators and whitewashed identical corridors, the two arrive at Unit 01's docking cage. Misato swipes her identification card, and the door opens with her security clearance. The room beyond is dark, and Shinji can hear the faint lapping of fluid against metal.

“Let's go Shinji.” She puts a hand on his shoulder, and he flinches at he contact. She nudges him through the door.

Shinji's steps on the metal bridge echo around the room, and the vibrations disturb the fluid beneath him. Misato fumbles with the power, finally locating the light switch in the dark, and flipping it on.

Bright lights flicker to blinding intensity, and Shinji shields his pupils while they adjust. Evangelion Unit 01 is submerged from the shoulder down in red fluid, and its face towers over everything else in the room. A steel retractable bridge spans the length of the room, sitting just inches above the fluid. Shinji walks slowly to the middle of the bridge, then turns and faces the Evangelion. Its eyes are dark and lifeless, a giant monolithic testament to the innovation of man, the controlling nature of humanity.

“Hello. Evangelion. Can you hear me? Its Shinji. I – I need to talk with you.”

There is no movement in the room except for the ambient noise of liquid sloshing and small cracks of steel settling. Misato stands just inside the doorway, with her eyes trained sharply on Shinji's small body. Bile churns at the base of her esophagus inexplicably, though she has no true cause for uneasiness. Shinji took action. Shinji requested to see the Evangelion. Breath drags heavily through her lungs on the inhale, carrying the sharp scent of steel.

Across the bridge, Shinji takes a deep breath. “Why - Why do you accept me? You let me fight with you, and you never complain. You even let me hurt you.” Shinji digs his nails into his arm. “I hurt too though. We are connected by nerves, Evangelion, so when you are injured, I also feel pain.”

Shinji looks at the fluid around Unit 01's neck. It smells like blood.

“We ended Kaworu's life. He told me to. And I told you to.” Steel creaks. “You didn't stop me. Neither did he. He wanted to die.”

“Are you happy with me? Do you want someone else? Have I done well?”

Shinji's voice raises in volume until he is nearly shouting, and the tone is raw and harsh.

“I can feel everything you feel. We killed him. I felt his bones break in my hands. His neck snapped. His blood was warm on my fingers. Did you feel it too?”

The fluid around the Evangelion is getting agitated, and small waves are forming and breaking against the hull. 

For the first time, Misato is afraid of Shinji Ikari. She steps forward, prepared to drag him back through the door, even if he will not go by his own power. “Shinji! Stop this.” Her voice takes on an edge of panic. “Lets go home.”

Shinji balls his hands into fists, and tears begin to stream down his face.

“Evangelion, are you happy with your life?”

“Do you have any fears?”

“Are you afraid of dying?”

“This is your fault! You left me alone to decide whether he should die! You didn't stop me! Kaworu is dead because of you! You abandoned me and its all your fault!”

The last syllable rings out hollowly in the cage. Shinji sinks to his knees and sobs. “You left me alone. Kaworu left me alone.”

Misato snatches her phone from her pocket and dials NERV command. “This is Misato Katsuragi! I need Commander Ikari to Unit 01 cage, NOW.” She shuts her phone and starts walking across the bridge.

“Shinji?” She coaxes her voice into a high-pitched melodic timbre, trying desperately to calm him down. “I called Commander Ikari. He is coming soon, so you should stand up, ok?”

“My father?” Shinji's eyes are large and tear stained, dripping with hope and the crushing weight of betrayal.

“Yes. He is on his way.”

Shinji moves to stand, but his knees wobble and give way. He bows his head. Through closed lips, he exhales an almost palpable whimper. The intimate sound multiplies and echoes obscenely through the metallic room, warping into something like a manic giggle.

He parts his lips. “E-Evangelion? Can you hear me? I made my choice.”

The liquid around Unit 01 starts to swirl violently, and muted metallic vibrations course through the metal bridge. Liquid sloshes into Misato's shoes, and she holds the handrail in the crook of her elbow. She stretches out her other hand towards Shinji's collapsed form.

“Shinji! What did you do?” Misato is knocked sideways as the room thrashes, screeching from waves of red liquid. “GET AWAY FROM THERE!” Though locked in place by a series of safety bolts under the fluid, Unit 01 twitches violently, spraying liquid and threatening to flood the bridge. 

“MOVE! SHINJI! IT'S ACTIVATING!” 

The Evangelion gives one more hard jerk, and its arm surges above the liquid. It hovers for a moment, casting a shadow across Shinji's upturned shoulders. His face contorts in panic as the arm lunges towards him. 

“SHINJI!” 

The Evangelion wraps its fingers around Shinji's waist, pinning one arm to his side. Shinji's feet leave the ground as he is lifted to the Evangelion's eye level. Its dark sockets begin to glow suddenly with a yellow light.

_Are you afraid, Shinji?_

_Yes._

_You are human, then?_

_Yes._

Shinji lifts his free arm and places it on the smooth metal of the Evangelion's brow. Electromagnetic pulses tingle up his fingertips. The large metal fingers holding his waist begin to tighten, and Shinji gasps one more breath. 

“Thank you.”

Crack. Silence. The air smells like blood.


End file.
